Two Shots
by Fade131
Summary: It takes an inhuman amount of alcohol for him to realize the truth.  Originally posted 1.19.2006


Author's Note: Written for a friend as enticement for her to write smut.

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"Can I get you something, sir?"

Vicious sat down heavily, not bothering to look at the bartender. It was undoubtedly still Riff, so he felt no obligation to pretend to be polite as he ordered a shot of vodka and fixed his half-lidded stare on the mirror behind the bar. It reflected the door, and also the raised platform on which stood Gren, playing some mournful tune on his saxophone. He downed the first shot quickly, and then asked for the bottle. He had a feeling he'd need it.

The song kept going, the pitch rising, the melody spinning from sad to something soft and sweet. He poured a second shot and watched the liquid swirl in the glass. He had come here for a reason…oh. Right. He had come because he needed to think. About Spike. And that train of thought, and any answers he might discover while contemplating it, would require a large sum of alcohol. Possibly enough to kill a normal man.

Spike was his partner. They had been…he hesitated to say "friends," as it sounded wrong somehow. He wasn't sure there was a word to describe their relationship. He drank the second shot more slowly, then placed the glass back down. He was watching the light reflect off the mirror. What could he conclusively say about his relationship with Spike? He supposed they were…friends… But they were also much more than that.

He and Spike…their relationship was different. It was more than what he had with Julia, and he was pretty sure that Spike thought the same thing. She was…no. He wasn't here to think about that. He could save that for another time. Tonight was for more important things, like figuring out what he felt about Spike. Oh, he loved him, that was certain—

…Wait.

He _loved_ Spike.

_Shit,_ he thought darkly, _…I'm going to need some more vodka for this…_

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_...__Half an hour later..._

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Spike almost went past the bar. He didn't really feel like drinking tonight, and he wasn't sure where anyone was, really. Obviously Gren would be there, and probably Walter, too, but that didn't guarantee him someone for the night and he really didn't want to end up alone.

And so he almost walked straight past it, heading for where he was sure he would find either Faye or Julia…or both (which was slightly more disturbing in his mind than he wanted to think about), but he heard someone laughing inside, someone with a very familiar voice…

He had to know. He walked in, scanning the room slowly, spotted Vicious slouched over at the bar and went over to sit next to him. He didn't get to sit down, though, because Vicious – who had been watching him in the mirror – spun the stool he was on and hugged Spike around his middle almost tight enough to stop the air from getting into his lungs.

"Spi~ike…hey, Spike…" He giggled, and Spike thought he might have fallen over if the grip on his ribs hadn't been so tight. Vicious and giggling didn't go in the same _room_, let alone…but here he was, obviously drunk – attested to by the number of empty vodka bottles in front of him – and giggling happily.

"Vicious…" He disentangled himself and sat down quickly before the man could do anything else mind-blowingly strange. "Do you feel okay? You never get this drunk."

"I'm fine…" He leaned back on the bar, tilting his head so his hair fell away from his eyes and giggling again. "I love you, Spike…"

Spike's mind froze, those four words repeating over and over. Vicious was doing it again, he was being drunk and unpredictable and utterly gorgeous…and there was no way Spike could take advantage of him. Crap.

"…And it took you _how many _shots of vodka to figure that out?"

Vicious laughed, sitting up straighter and turning the stool back around to face the bar. "Only two, only two…the rest..." He shrugged and nearly fell off his seat. "The rest were for courage…"

"How many did you have?" Spike was a bit worried, actually, taking into account both Vicious' inebriated state and the empty bottles. But Vicious was still smiling.

"Mmm…I dunno…I stopped counting at…at…fifty or so…"

He turned his stool again and leaned back, resting against Spike's chest and smiling up at him. He really was incredibly beautiful like that, Spike thought brokenly. With his hair falling over his eyes and his cheeks tinged pink…

Spike bent down and kissed him.


End file.
